


Under These Western Skies

by Rhiannon_A_Christy



Series: Leather And Lace [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Western, Doc Molly Hooper, F/M, Mail Order Brides, Marshal Coulson, Outlaw Bucky, Outlaw Darcy, Outlaw Loki, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, Western AU, contemporary western, historical western, horse ranch, oneshots, post-war western au, train robbing, unconnected oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 16:54:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5171963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhiannon_A_Christy/pseuds/Rhiannon_A_Christy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Western AU Tumblr Prompts</p><p>  Various Darcyland Pairings</p><p>1. Yellowed Lace (Darcy/Steve)</p><p>2. Soiled Dove (Darcy/Thor)</p><p>3. Bar None (Darcy/Bucky)</p><p>4. Bullets and Whiskey (Darcy/Thor)</p><p>5. A Resting Place (Darcy/Bucky)</p><p>6. First Meetings (Darcy/Bucky)</p><p>7. Pistol (Darcy/Bucky)</p><p>8. Heaven and Hell (Darcy/Loki)</p><p>9. A Fine Line (Darcy/Coulson)</p><p>10. When Cupid Has Hooves (Darcy/Steve)</p><p>11. Riding That Iron Horse (Darcy/Bucky)</p><p>12. Only the Lord Knows (Bucky/Molly Hooper)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Yellowed Lace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nemhaine42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nemhaine42/gifts), [uruvielnumenesse](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=uruvielnumenesse), [bulmavegotaku](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=bulmavegotaku), [Jadzia_Bear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jadzia_Bear/gifts), [Crejhov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crejhov/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nemhaine42 who requested this prompt has also done a beautiful piece inspired by this, and I think everyone should go look at it, because it is perfect, and full of yummy beared cowboy Steve.
> 
>  
> 
> http://rhiannon-a-christy.tumblr.com/post/134275253858/nemhaine42-inspired-by-rhiannon-a-christys

The splash of water filled the small cave as Darcy poured from a chipped pitcher into the mismatched bowl. She dipped a bit of ripped flour-sack into the icy water, holding back a gasp as she dripped it over her exposed shoulders. She wished she could just heat the water over a fire, but the risk of someone seeing the smoke was too great.

Sighing, she quickly washed down her dirt encrusted body. It felt like a lifetime since she had been clean. The last time she had a full, warm bath had been the night before Mr. Pierce showed up at the ranch. That had been the night she had watched from her bedroom window as her Pa was shot, the night she had hidden as the screams of her family filled the air. If it hadn’t been for their Foreman, Mr. Rogers, she would’ve surely been six feet under.

Steve Rogers had been working for her Pa since he had drifted in from nowhere four years ago. He had been a handsome man back then, all wild and dusty, and he was even more so now. Even if he did stop shaving months ago.

Throwing the flour-sack back into the bowl of water, Darcy quickly slipped on her unmentionables before she caught her death of cold. The dirt floor of the cave was just as cold as the stone walls, and she could feel the chill slipping up her thighs to settle in her middle.

Steve would be back any second; he never did like to leave her alone too long, too frightened that Pierce would find her if he did. Working quickly with cold stiff fingers, Darcy slipped the dusty bit of silk over camisole. She had found the dress stuffed into a trunk left abandoned in an old homestead. It had been stained, torn, and moth eaten, but Darcy was nothing if not resourceful. She was her Mama’s daughter, and she knew how to make even a pig’s ear look like silk.

She had cut and stitched, replacing the buttons along the front with various different ones she found through their travels. Not one of them matched, but Darcy thought it looked kind of cute. She knew it was silly, this patching of the dress, but she wanted for just a night to feel normal. She had grown up a rich rancher’s daughter, and her father had made sure all his girls had the latest fashions. She had gone to party after party, flirted and danced, and she hadn’t had a care in the world. For just one night she wanted what Pierce had taken from her when he couldn’t accept her Pa’s refusal to sell.

“Darcy?”

Jumping at Steve’s sudden shout, Darcy turned to smooth out her hair in the shard of mirror mounted on the cave wall. “One moment!”

“Darcy, Sweetheart, I thought I told you not to move where you can’t someone coming?” Steve slipped off the back of ol’ Captain, running his hand along the horse’s neck in thanks. He moved a bit further into the camp, his eyes taking in everything. They had been there too long, become too comfortable. He knew they would have to leave in the morning, he also knew Darcy wouldn’t be happy.

He wished he could give her the things that she wanted; a home, money, a life safe from monsters. But Steve was only an old drifter. The only reason he had stayed so long at the Lewis’ ranch was because he couldn’t imagine not seeing a glimpse of Darcy everyday. Maybe it was a good thing he stayed, he had been able to pull Darcy out of the house and whisk her away before Pierce found her. Even so, he had no business thinking about that woman as anything more than a friend.

“I know, but Bushwhacker’s a good dog, he always alerts me to trouble.” Darcy deftly pulled her hair back, securing it with a piece of frayed ribbon. She smiled at herself in the mirror shard, she still looked like a ragamuffin, but it was better than she had looked.

“What are you doing in there anyhow?” Steve held back the urge to enter the cave, he had given the place to her and he was gentlemanly enough not to enter a lady’s chambers without invitation. And by God, he wished he had it.

Realizing she was about as presentable as she was going to get, Darcy walked slowly towards the cave entrance and the piece of cloth that hung there. She took a few deep breaths to calm her pounding heart and ready herself. She was sure Steve would tell her how silly she was being, might even laugh. Taking one last breath she pushed the cloth aside and stepped out into the waning sun.

Steve blinked rapidly like an idiot as she stared at the woman before him. She was a beautiful woman no matter what she wore, but nothing suited her more than the grand silk dresses she used to wear. Now she stood there in stained blue silk with yellowing lace, and he felt his heart break into a thousand pieces. She looked so shy, her hands folded over each other in front of her. He took a step forward before he could think about it.

“I know what you’re going to say; it’s silly, I mean what use is a silk dress to me now? But I just…”

“You look beautiful.” Steve took the last few steps forward until he stood directly in front of her, his hands going out to clasp hers in his own. “You look beautiful, and every beautiful lady deserves a dress no matter what.”

Darcy felt tears bubble up, one slipping past to slide down her cheek. She bit her lip as Steve reached up and wiped it away.

“I just want to feel normal again, make me feel normal, Steve.” Darcy closed her eyes, expecting the man to step away at her request. She had been hoping for a dance from the man for so long now, but Steve had never looked her way.

Steve moved back just enough that he could slip his hat off and make a small bow. “May I have this dance, Miss Darcy?” Without waiting for her reply, Steve pulled her in close and danced around slowly in circles. He hummed quietly as they spun, his cheeks resting against the top of her head. He felt her tremble against him, and in that moment he made a promise that even if it took him the rest of his life, he would make sure Miss Darcy Lewis had everything she ever wanted; a house, a home, a family, and a life.

 


	2. Soiled Dove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For uruvielnumenesse on Tumblr

 

The chair creaked as Thor leaned it back on two legs, his own groan matched that of the sturdy piece of wood beneath him. He ran one hand through his hair, using his fingers to pull at the knots. His eyes, halfway closed, gazed steadily at the woman adjusting her stockings.

“This town doesn’t deserve you.” Thor licked his lips as Darcy snapped the garter wrapped around her thigh. He had been coming to The Red Room for years, but no other girl quite matched Miss Darcy Lewis.

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a complement or an insult.” Darcy pulled a thin wrapper around herself, tying it off before turning to look at the large man in her chair.

“Hm, which one will get you packing it up and heading out with me?” Thor reached out as Darcy made to pass him, flinging her down into his lap. He smiled wide as she slid her legs along the outside of his as she sat down, her arms going around his neck.

“Why won’t you let that go?” Darcy twisted her fingers into his hair, re-knotting it where he had finally untangled it. This was an old argument between them. He always asked her to run away with him, and she always kissed him until he forgot.

“My mother always said I was like a dog with a bone; I just can’t let anything go.” Thor smoothed his hands up and down her thighs, his smile growing wide as she leaned down to nip at his lips.

“So, that is all this is, you hate to lose?” She pressed a harsh kiss against his mouth, pulling back when she felt a growl rise up in his chest.

“Darcy…” Thor slid his hands up to cup her face, his eyes boring into hers. “Haven’t you figured it out by now? I want you to be my wife.”

Darcy felt her stomach clench, bile rising up her throat. He had asked her to leave with him, but he had never said anything before about marrying him. She had figured he wanted her for himself; his kept woman. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought he wanted her as his wife.

“Now, what would the townspeople think about their marshal marrying one of Nat’s girls, huh?” Darcy pulled his hands from her face and gave him a sad smile. “No, you go and court one of them ladies, leave this old girl for midnight.”

“Darcy, I wouldn’t know what to do with those girls.” Thor realized he had misspoken when he felt Darcy’s whole body stiffen.

“Oh.” Darcy pushed herself from his lap, wrapping herself tighter into the thin piece of fabric around her.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Those girls out there are just that, girls. Their daddies keep them locked away from the world, let them think everything is sunshine. Not one of them would be able to handle being a marshal’s wife. Could you imagine what would happen if I came home one night with a bullet in my gut?” Thor never saw much use in raising girls to be naïve, the world was a harsh place and he figured it was best to prepare them. Sadly society thought different.

“Be that as it may, this town still wouldn’t take to you marrying some whore.” Moving to sit along the edge of her bed, Darcy pulled a small flask from the drawer of her lampstand. She took a long pull of the rotgut, her eyes closed tightly.

“Who I choose to marry is none of their business. Who or what my wife was does not help or hinder me doing my job.” He knew that there would be chins wagging, but he couldn’t have cared less. It didn’t matter if he married Darcy or some prissy lady, he would still be able to shoot and ride the same.

“You know,” Darcy laughed hollowly, “this town deserves me. You’re the one that they don’t.”

“Come on, Darcy…”

“Your time is up, I’ve got other customers waiting.” Darcy stood from the bed and made her way over to the table where she kept her pitcher and bowl.

“Darcy…”

“Just go, Thor.” Darcy poured a bit of water into the bowl and set about washing up. “And don’t come back.”

Thor smashed his hat onto his head, his whole body shaking in anger. “Fight it all you want, but Miss Darcy Ann Lewis, you are going to be my wife. Come hell or high water.”

Darcy threw the pitcher in her hand at the door as soon as it was closed. Damn that man, damn him straight to hell.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Alright, I’m sure this is nowhere what you had in mind, but it is what popped into my head. And even though this ended pretty sucky, just know in the end Thor woos Darcy and makes her realize how much she is worth and they ride off into the sunset, get married, and live happily-ever-after.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


	3. Bar None

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For bulmavegotaku on Tumblr

  
  
Bucky stepped up onto the porch of The Vision Inn, rain dripping steadily from his Stetson. He knew he resembled a drowned rat, and a muddy one at that, but there was nothing for it. All he wanted was a hot bath, a whisky, a meal that didn’t consist of tinned beans, and a soft, warm woman to curl up to. And he didn’t necessarily want them in that order. He adjusted the saddle bag hanging over his shoulder and knocked.

The door opened to the figure of a petite young woman. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years at most, her silky hair pulled tightly atop her head. She stood before him, her hands clasped tightly on the green wool covering her hips.

“Yes, can I help you?”

“I’m Marshal Barnes, I was told this was where I could get me a bed for the night?” It came out as more of a question than he had originally intended. The thing was, the woman in front of him didn’t look anything like the sort of women than normally worked in these sort of establishments.

“Uh, it’s late Marshal, maybe you should try down at the Bar None Saloon. Goodnight.”

The woman started to close the door, but Bucky slid his foot inside just enough to halt it. He slipped off his hat, rain spilling onto the wood of the porch.

“Look lady, I’ve been riding for a long time and I would really like to get out of these clothes. Now, I was told that my commission here came with a room here for a few nights. So are you going to let me in?” Maybe he was being a little too harsh, but his rear-end hurt, he smelled like a week old pole-cat, and he wasn’t about to go wandering about in the rain to find some saloon. Not when he was sure there was a nice room and a warm woman inside the inn.

“Just… fine, get in here and don’t touch anything, you look like you’ve been rolling around in a pigpen.”

Bucky slipped inside, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the change in light. He blinked at his surroundings, everything looked immaculate. This really was a change from what he was used to.

“So, I never caught your name…” Bucky watched as the young woman grabbed a bunch of old blankets from a closet and started laying them out of the floor in a path leading to a back room.

“Miss Darcy Leeann Lewis. And what, may I inquire, would be your Christian name Marshal?” Miss Darcy pulled a pair of gloves before she grabbed the saddlebag.

“James, Miss, but everyone just calls me Bucky.” Bucky watched with amusement as Miss Darcy motioned for him to follow her. He stayed just a few steps behind her, his brow furrowed as her footsteps landed louder than they should’ve. It was almost like she was purposely trying to make as much noise as she could.

“Well, Marshal Barnes, if you will just wait in here I will heat you some water for a bath. Though if you are eager enough, I can just fill it with cold water.” She set the saddlebag down on the floor by an old copper tub, the gloves quickly following it.

“I’m not in that much of a hurry, not to mention I don’t much like the idea of freezing. I’ve had enough of that on the ride here.” Bucky gave a wink to the woman as he started peeling back the layers of leather and wool, he would be glad to be rid of them after so long.

“AH! Of course, Marshal, I’ll bring you the water as soon as it is ready.” Miss Darcy turned quickly and all but ran out of the room.

Bucky laughed quietly as he slipped out of his union suit. He moved over to a small mirror that had been mounted on the wall, and ran his hand over the thick mass of hair on his chin. He wondered how much more a shave would cost him, and if Miss Darcy would do him the pleasure of doing it.

A little while later a high-pitched squeal alerted him to Miss Darcy’s presence. He turned to find her filling the tub up with shaky hands, her cheeks bright red. He shook his head, this was a new experience. He slipped up behind her, one hand slowly running up her back. She was small, but she was a curvy thing. She had enough on her to keep a man busy for a long time.

“Marshal!” Miss Darcy shot up, her eyes going wide when she noticed the naked man beside her. Quickly, she darted her eyes elsewhere. “Um, take as long as you need and call me once you are done.”

“I was kind of hoping that I might get a hand with that, or maybe two.” Bucky rubbed his hand up and down her arm, enjoying the cherry red that colored her face.

“I-I-I think that is something, I think… take as long as you need Marshal, I will just be in the parlor when you are finished.” With that Miss Darcy bolted from the room faster than any hare he had ever seen.

Shaking his head he slipped into the hot water. Nothing felt quite so good to his abused muscles. He leaned back against the edge of the tub, his eyes closing. After a few minutes voices began to drift in from the other room, one he could make out as Miss Darcy, though the other was male. He listened closely, but he couldn’t make anything out beyond the fact that Miss Darcy seemed to be angry. He was about to check out what was going on when heavy footsteps entered the room.

Bucky opened his eyes and turned around. They went wide as he took in the scene. Miss Darcy stood just inside the door, her whole body shaking and a few tears clinging to her lashes. But that wasn’t what caused him to stand straight up and almost fall face first on the floor.

“Do you know how long I’ve been searching for you?!” Bucky rushed out of the tub and reached out to grab a hold of the back of a chair to steady him.

“Now, Marshal, it isn’t what you think. Steve didn’t…”

“Darcy, sweetheart, would you for once just let me handle this? And Buck, seriously cover yourself up in front of my sister!” Steve grabbed a quilt from the rack and tossed it to Bucky.

“Your, your sister?! You don’t have a sister.” Despite his protest, Bucky wrapped the quilt around himself. Something was apparently going, and he thought it would probably be best to not be hanging out for all to see.

“Half-sister, didn’t know until this whole thing with Pierce started.” Steve ran a hand over his beard, his fingers digging in to scratch his chin beneath the thick blond mass.

“Steve? What in the world is going on?” Miss Darcy looked straight at her brother, her eyes refusing to land on the mostly naked man across the room.

“Maybe I can answer that, Ma’am.” Bucky pulled the quilt tighter around himself, he was quickly realizing that The Vision Inn was not a brothel and that if Steve found out what he had been thinking that he would castrate him.

“Well, someone better, or I’m going to get my frying pan.” Miss Darcy pressed her fists against her hips, and Bucky had no doubt she would smack both of them upside the head if someone didn’t get talking soon.

“I am sure you already know about your brother being wanted by the law.” Bucky waited until Miss Darcy nodded her head before he continued. “Everyone knew from the start that he was innocent, but Pierce has influence and he used it. A bunch of us were trying to set things right, but Steve here decided to be an idiot and run off before any of us could do anything.”

“Hey! I’m sorry I didn’t feel much like being hung.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at Bucky with narrowed eyes.

“I wouldn’t have allowed that and you know it.” Bucky shook his head, but continued on. “After he ran Pierce sent Rumlow after him, so I’ve been trying to find him first. I got word that he was seen around these parts and so took the job hoping to run into him.”

“Could we maybe stop talking about me as though I wasn’t standing right here?” Steve rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that slid across his lips. He knew it was only a matter of time before ol’ Buck found him.

“I’m… alright, fine, I’m done with this whole thing.” Miss Darcy flung her hands in the air, the face she made erasing any doubt that she was Steve’s sister. “Look Marshal, thank you for doing what you’re doing for my brother. Now, as I said earlier, it’s late. You can bunk with Steve, goodnight.”

Bucky and Steve both watched as Miss Darcy stomped out of the room, her footsteps echoing through the house as she headed upstairs. Steve turned back towards Bucky, his eyes narrowed to almost slits as he looked at his old friend.

“Don’t think we won’t be addressing what you tried to do with my sister in here later.” Steve turned back towards the door, his voice carrying over his shoulder. “Get cleaned up, you smell like a pole-cat’s ass.”

Bucky swallowed hard, suddenly he wished he had just headed off towards the Bar None.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: Ok, first off, I actually had just been thinking about doing a innkeeper Darcy last night. So I may have squealed a bit when I got this. Anyway, this was a fun one, poor Bucky he is kind of in deep shit with Steve now.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


	4. Bullets and Whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for Jadziabear on Tumblr

Darcy moved quietly through the parlor, mindlessly snuffing out all the lamps. Most of the rooms were filled, even if they were with cowboys. At least they got a wash over at the bathhouse before renting a room. She wasn’t sure if there was anything smellier than a cowboy right off a drive, if there was Darcy didn’t want to find out.

A thump at the back door drew Darcy out of her musings. She took in a breath, figuring it was probably just some animal looking for shelter. But as the noise continued it became apparent that it was something more. Darcy grabbed the small derringer she kept tucked inside the folds of her dress and headed for the door. The gun might’ve been small, but it killed just the same. If anyone thought it was a good idea to rob her they were about to get a surprise.

Steeling herself, Darcy grabbed the door and flung it open with one hand while the other pointed the gun. She blinked and slowly lowered her hand as her eyes fell downwards towards the man sprawled on the ground.

The man had to be almost three times her size, both in height and width. He looked like he could easily fell a tree with his bare hands. He was just as unwashed as the other cowhands, though she figured that could easily have something to do with him lying in the dirt. It wasn’t so much any of that that moved Darcy into action, it was the widening spot of red on his coat.

She tucked the gun away, bent down and slid her hands under his shoulders. It took a bit, but she eventually was able to pull him into the pantry behind the kitchen. Taking a moment to look down at the man, she wondered if she shouldn’t just fetch Dr. Banner. She was no doctor, the most she knew how to do was clean scrapes and cool minor burns. But the quickly widening blotch of red worried her, the man could end up dead before she was able to rouse the doctor.

Working quickly, she gathered bits of cloth and a bottle of the rotgut her cook thought he kept hidden. She knelt beside him, pausing just a moment before gathering his blood soaked clothing in her hands.

“I really hope you don’t turn out to be a rustler or outlaw or something.” Oh goodness, her Papa would’ve had her head for not taking more caution. Still, what was she supposed to do, allow a man to bleed to death outside her inn? That just wouldn’t be good for business. So far she was still the only establishment that hadn’t had a death, and she wasn’t about to start now. “I swandagotion, if you die on me I’ll drag your body all the way to the river.”

The sound of ripping cloth sounded through the room, but Darcy ignored it and the heat rising up her neck. She had no time to be shy or modest. Her eyes took in the angry red and black hole in the man’s shoulder, the sight making her gag. After calming herself she grabbed the bottle of rotgut and poised it above the wound. She had no idea what she was doing, but she knew it had to be cleaned. She had once heard a bunch of cowboys talk about dying from black powder poisoning, if she didn’t clean it the man could still die even if she got the bullet out. “Here goes nothing.”

“Ahhhh, what the hell?!”

Darcy stumbled back a ways as the man shot up, his uninjured hand going to cover his wound. He looked around wildly, eyes quickly settling on Darcy and the bottle of whiskey. He reached out, grabbed the bottle, and drank down half of it.

“Ugh, that isn’t fit for people.”

“Well, it wasn’t like I was exactly planning on you drinking it.” Darcy placed her hands on her hips the best she could while kneeling on the floor.

“I can see that, what did you think you were doing little girl?”

“Cleaning out your bullet wound, or would you rather I just left you out for the buzzards?” She was really starting to regret helping the man, he had no manners at all.

“Oh…” The man looked to his mangled shoulder and back to Darcy. “I’m grateful Ma’am.”

Darcy rolled her eyes as the man handed the bottle back to her with a sheepish smile. Shaking her head as grabbed a bit of cloth and continued cleaning the wound.

“I see we at least have a few manners hidden behind all that hair.” Darcy nodded towards him and the full head of blond hair and a beard thick enough she was sure something was living in there. He reminded him of a mountain man with all that hair and leather.

“Excuse me Ma’am, I’ve been away from civilized people for awhile now.” A single, large hand slipped into his tangled hair and attempted to smooth it with little success.

“I think, seeing as I’m now covered in your blood, that we could dispense with the whole Ma’am thing. I’m Darcy, you have a name?” Darcy finished clearing away most of the blood, and she knew what came next and she really didn’t want to have anything to do with it.

“Thor, Ma’am… Miss Darcy.” Thor worked to keep his eyes open, but he had lost too much blood and had been traveling for too long.

“Alright, well Thor I suppose I should be honest with you. I’ve never done this, so I’m sure this is going to hurt like the dickens.” Darcy grabbed one of the kitchen knives, but one of Thor’s hands curled around her wrist.

“Use this, don’t want you dirtying that.” Thor slipped a heavy knife from his boot, poured a bit of the whisky over it, and handed it over.

Darcy nodded, grasped the knife and slowly moved it towards the wound.

“Wait!” Thor looked around her, reached out for the broom behind him, busted off half the handle and stuck it between his teeth before nodding.

“You owe me a new broom, just so you know.” Taking one last thick swallow, Darcy pressed the tip of the knife into the wound.

Thor bit down into the broom handle, muted screams trying to press past his lips. Darcy thought she would be sick as fresh blood gushed over her fingers, but she continued on until she was able to fish out the bullet. The small bit of metal fell into her hand and she sat back on her heels with a relieved sigh.

“It’s it silly how something so small can do so much damage?” Darcy held the bullet up in front of their faces.

“Funny, isn’t it…” Thor laughed and promptly passed out, his large body making a loud thump as it hit the floor.

“Now what am I supposed to do with you?” Darcy shook her head, alive or not, she might just drag his worthless hide down to the river for making such a mess of her kitchen. She stood and gathered him up under his shoulders. “Alright, let’s get you at least out of the kitchen. Once Cook realizes where his whiskey went he might just put that bullet back in you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope ya like it. I’m having fun with these.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


	5. A Resting Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for creed-88 on Tumblr

 

Sunlight filtered into the small cropping of rocks where Darcy Lewis… Barnes was currently resting. She scrunched her face at the unwelcome intrusion, her hand raising up to cover her eyes from the harsh desert light.

“Was any of this really necessary?” Darcy shifted over the hard ground, the material of her borrowed Levi’s pulling against her thighs.

“I really doubt that you would’ve survived this long in one of your dresses.” Bucky looked up from the rifle in his lap, his eyes trailing along the figure of the woman beside him. It wasn’t as though the clothing worked to disguise her as a man, the woman was too curvy for that. What it did was offer a measure of protection… and if it afforded him the chance to admire her form, well he was just enough of a gentleman not to mention it.

“We are being chased by a gang of murderous outlaws, I would really hope you have enough faith in me to realize I could care very little about what clothing I was wearing.” Darcy rolled her eyes at the man she now called husband. It was at times like this that she seriously wondered what she had been thinking. “I was actually referring to our current situation.”

“As you have just stated, we are being chased by murderous outlaws. So the answer to your question would be, yes, yes this was all very necessary.” Bucky went back to cleaning his rifle, the winds had been stronger than normal and had kicked up enough dirt to bury a full sized bull overnight.

“Whatever possessed you to take up with those men in the first place, I will never understand.” Darcy knew she was being a little snippy, but this wasn’t what she had been expecting when she left Boston. She was supposed to marry a nice rancher, have a few kind and keep the home. She was not supposed to be running for her life from her husband’s old outlaw gang.

“Darcy…” Bucky set the rifle off to the side and turned to look directly at the woman. He figured she deserved the truth, she was his wife now… and wasn’t that something, Bucky Barnes, the notorious Winter Soldier was married.

“James…” Darcy pushed her fingers through her hair, but growled lowly in her throat as her fingers got caught in several large knots. She would have to remember to weave it all in a braid from now on.

“It isn’t what you’re thinking. Pierce and his gang killed several US Marshals over the past few years, and no one has been able to get to them. We needed someone on the inside, someone who wouldn’t turn. Steve volunteered, but he is too well known, so I was sent in instead.” Bucky reached forward, his hands making quick work of untangling Darcy’s fingers. She smiled at her quiet thank you and continued on. “I presented myself as the disgruntled side-kick, tired of being overshadowed by his friend. It worked, at least for a time.”

“So what happened?” She felt a blush rising up her neck and over her cheeks. He hadn’t touched her since their wedding night, not deliberately at least. It was a night she couldn’t get out of her thoughts, the way he had looked at her, touched her, and made her feel. It bothered her how much she wanted it all again, even more by James’ insistence that it had all been a mistake… one they would rectify as soon as they were safe.

“It turns out the Hydra gang is a lot bigger than anyone thought, and they don’t take too kindly to having several of their friends hung.” Bucky leaned back against the rock behind him. He knew that goddamn Rumlow wouldn’t stop until Bucky was six-feet under. He just wished he had never dragged Darcy along, she deserved much more than this.

“I don’t suppose anyone does. Still, what are we going to do?” Darcy felt like wrapping the man beside her up in her arms as he ran a hand over his face.

“Right now, try not to get killed. Later… hope that Steve gets that letter and gets his hide out here but quick.” Bucky pulled his hat down low over his eyes, just enough where the sun no longer bothered him, but he could still see Darcy. “Now, get some sleep, we need to get moving soon.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it Sugar, you didn’t say if you wanted historical or not, so I just wrote what came to me. And this actually is connected to the next prompt, as I was writing I couldn’t help it, it just happened….. and this one is seriously one I’m thinking about continuing as a full story.
> 
>  
> 
> Also a little bit of trivia for you: Even though denim had been used for work clothes for years, it was Levi Strauss & Co who made the first pair of Blue Jeans in 1873 by putting rivets in the work pants.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


	6. First Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wintershock Mail-Order Bride AU

 

Darcy stepped out of the stage, her eyes taking in the small town. It was completely different from Boston, maybe even a bit dustier than she had pictured. Not that she thought her mental image of the west would be accurate, everything she knew about the west came from those dime novels she used to sneak out of Miller’s Mercantile.

  
Taking a deep breath, Darcy grasped the handles of her bags and headed straight for the inn on the other side of the street. It didn’t look like much on the outside, but she figured it was best to rent a room for the night than head straight out to Mr. Barnes’ ranch. She nodded her head when a passing cowboy opened the inn door for her, and stepped inside.

Where the outside could’ve used a few repairs, the inside of the inn had been kept up. She blinked in surprise, having expected to find the place in the same disarray. Slowly, but with the confidence her mother had given her, she moved to the desk and the small man behind it.

“What can I do for you Ma’am?” The little man smiled up from behind his smudged, spectacles. Shield Valley had its fair share of visitors, but most of them were cowboys; drifters looking for a job for the season. The woman who stood before stuck out like a sore thumb, with her pale skin and expensive clothing. If anyone screamed Easterner, Johnathon figured it was this woman.

“I would like to rent a room for the night.” Darcy pulled open the strings to her reticule to pull out the small pocketbook that her Granny had given her several years ago.

“Will this be a room for one, or is Ma’am traveling with companions?” It seemed strange to Johnathon that a woman that looked that refined would dare travel without a chaperone. Then again what did he know, women were different than when he had been young. So many of them had this notion of independence that puzzled him.

“Just for one, please.” She practically whispered her words, leaning just a little across the desk. It really wouldn’t do to announce that she was all alone. She had her derringer, but it was best not to invite trouble.

Her eyes swept over the room and the few people who were littered around. A couple of older ladies sat at the table near the window, sipping at cups of tea as they whispered. An older man with a chin full of white whiskers had taken the seat by the woodstove, his nose buried in a book. It was the man taking up the length of the couch that caught her eye though. He was sprawled out like the couch were a bed, his boot clad feet crossed at the ankles. Out of everyone in the inn he was the most out of place, with his dusty denim and the battered hat resting on his chest. He was also watching her with heavy eyes and a smirk on his face.

“Ma’am?” Johnathon tapped his finger on the desk, pulling the young woman’s attention back to him.

“I’m sorry, yes?” Darcy shook off the feeling the man’s unblinking gaze gave her and focused instead on the innkeeper. She was there to get married, it would not do to allow her eyes to wander.

“I need you to sign the ledger…” Johnathon looked towards the couch and gave himself a shake. It really was too bad the lady was traveling alone. “And if I could get your name?”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I’m Miss Darcy Leeann Lewis.” Darcy dipped the pen into the inkwell, making quick work of signing her name. Just as she was making the last curve of her ‘s’ a hand reached out from behind her to clasp down on her own. Before she could even protest, the hand directed her backwards, crossing out her name.

“Thank you, Johnathon, but Miss Lewis will not have need of a room tonight.”

Darcy pulled away, turning to find the man from the couch. He was much taller than she had expected, also much better looking from this angle.

“Now, Barnes, look here…” Johnathon may be a slight man when compared to most, but he was anything but a coward. He wouldn’t allow a woman in his care to be taken advantage of.

“Now don’t get all in an uproar, Miss Lewis here is to be my wife.” Barnes gave a small smile and a tip of the hat. “James Barnes, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier, but I wasn’t sure it was really you.”

“Understandable.” Darcy had to stop herself from staring at the man open-mouthed. This was not what she had been expecting, he was much younger than she thought he would be. “Still, I think it would be best if I remained here until we are married.”

“Miss Lewis, I am an honorable man, but if it bothers you I will sleep in the barn until we can get the preacher to marry us.” It wasn’t as though he hadn’t spent a night or two bunked up with his horses.

“Oh, well… I…” Darcy looked from the man that would be her husband to the innkeeper. None of this was anything she had imagined when she had accepted to be a mail-order bride.

“You might as well get used to the house, make it your own. Not to mention I’m sure you would much rather spend your money on something pretty for the weddin’ than on a room here.” He really didn’t see any sense in her using up all her money at the inn when she had a place for free to stay. And if it also meant that he knew his future wife was safe, well he didn’t say anything.

“Well, as long as you promise that you will sleep in the barn until we are legally wed.” Darcy gasped, holding back a giggle as Mr. Barnes lowered to one knee in front of her.

“I vow now in front off all these people, I will remain an honorable man and stay in the barn.” He knew Johnathon was tutting behind that desk of his, but Bucky was no fool when it came to women. He might look silly, but the laughter shinning in Miss Lewis’ eyes made it worth it.

“Alright then, Mr. Barnes, just know I will shoot you if you break your vow.” And she would too, husband to be or not.

“I would expect no less.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit late, I’m sorry Sugar. Anyway, this is connected to the last prompt: A Resting Place. I will also be making this into a full story. I already have a notebook all set up for development.
> 
> Another bit of trivia: Reticules (a small drawstring, cloth purse) were used by women during the late 18th century and early 19th, though the term was used up until the early 20th. Also, purses were actually first a man’s accessory.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


	7. Pistol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy/Bucky: Wintershock  
> Darcy caught in the middle of a bank robbery

 

  
When Darcy moved to the small town in Colorado this was not what she had been expecting. She had only been in Shield Valley for two weeks and already she was caught up in the middle of something that had nothing to do with her. If her cousin could see her now she would be laughing at Darcy’s unfortunate luck.

Darcy never went looking for trouble, but it always seemed to find her. She had been just coming out of the mercantile when her arm had been grabbed and she had gone flinging into the arms of a strange man. It seemed as though she had become a hostage in an ill-attempted bank robbery.

She wrinkled her nose at the stench coming off the man behind her, he smelled as though he had been sleeping with pigs. Heaven help her, but she would never get that smell out of her dress… the poor thing was new too, just arrived from Paris.

Seriously, this was all becoming a bit ridiculous. The man, covered in dirt, held her tightly against him with an arm around her stomach. Not far from where they stood in front of the bank, was Sheriff Rogers and his deputy Barnes. They both had their guns out and pointed at the man holding her. As for the man, he switched pointing his own gun from her to the Sheriff every few seconds.

“Listen, you don’t want to do this. Just let the Lady go and we’ll talk.” Steve held his gun positioned at the robber’s head. He feared taking a shot. He was good, but he was scared of Miss Darcy getting hurt.

“I’m no fool! I’m not about to get hanged!”

Darcy tried not to gag at the putrid smell of the man’s breath. She was pretty sure most of his teeth had gone to rot.

“You’re a fool for ever having thought up this plan of yours.” Darcy gasped as the man tightened his arm around her waist, cutting off her air momentarily.

“Hush it now, pretty. Didn’t your Ma and Pa teach you that little girls should be seen and not heard?” The man pressed his nose into the thick tresses of the woman in his hold while he slid his hand up to cup the hot underside of a breast. “There’s only one place a woman should be heard.”

Darcy felt her body go cold before a rush of red heat filled her entire body. The nerve of the man! She was a lady… though she was also her father’s daughter. So instead of whimpering in distress, Darcy reached down to pull her skirts up enough that she could kick back at the man holding her. He howled in pain as the heels of her shoes smacked into his shins. She didn’t allow him to recover before she twisted in his loosened hold, her hand balled into a fist that she brought right into his nose.

The man twisted away as the bone shattered, blood dripping down his lips and chin. By the time he recovered enough to see, the Sheriff had him cuffed and was dragging him towards the jailhouse.

Darcy dusted off her skirts and smoothed out her hair. She looked up when Deputy Barnes stepped up beside her, her heart skipping a slight beat at the beaming smile he held.

“Why didn’t you shoot? I’ve been told of your skill with a pistol, or was that all just big talk?” Maybe she was being a little harsh, but she had just been through an embarrassing ordeal.

“You’ve heard right, Miss Darcy. Only I had an idea just what a… pistol… you were yourself. I had a feeling you could handle it.” Bucky reached down to grab the package she had dropped when she had been grabbed. He handed it to her, taking her purpling hand in his when she reached out. “Looks painful, I could help with that.”

Darcy felt her cheeks pink at the feeling of Deputy Barnes’ fingers smoothing over her knuckles. She swallowed and looked to where the Sheriff had gone. “Shouldn’t you be over at the jail?”

“Oh, the Sheriff can handle himself. Now, how about that help?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “ Steve and Bucky as Sheriff and Deputy, socialite Darcy caught in a bank robbery” prompt by Anon on AO3 comment. Hope you like it.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


	8. Heaven and Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is on the run from the outlaw known as Loki, with only Steve, Bucky, and Sam for protection. Only, things may not be what they seem. (Tasertricks)
> 
> Inspired by artwork done by Nemhaine42 on Tumblr (will put link later when I'm not on mobile)

 

Darcy pressed her elbows against the tops of her knees, her head falling between her arms. She huffed and blew a bit of hair out from her eyes and focused on the dirt at her feet. All around her she could hear the shuffling of feet and the quiet murmur of men. Her guardians.

For days she had been forced to ride with these three men. For her protection her father had said. The men in question had worked for her father on his ranch. All three were loyal, good men. She didn’t fault them for not understanding. Her father never told them the whole truth of her situation. Her father didn’t even know the whole story.

A large, but gentle hand rested itself between her shoulder blades, the fingers moving in slight circles. She knew the man didn’t even realize he was doing it, and that made her sad as she knew soon she would have to break his heart.

“Do not worry, Miss Darcy, everything is going to be fine. We’ll get you to your Aunt’s home safe and sound.” Steve ran his hand up and down her spine. The poor woman had to be frightened out of her mind, what with that man chasing after her.

“Thank you kindly, Mr. Rogers.” Darcy sat up fully, forcing the man’s hand to fall from her back. She looked at the young man beside her, giving him a short smile. Had things been different she knew she could have easily fallen for him. As it stood, her heart belonged to another.

Her continued silence after his inquiry caused Steve to stand and return to his two friends. He shook his head as he slid down to the ground next to Bucky.

“How she holdin’ up?” Bucky spit out the bullet between his teeth into the folds of his shirt.

“She is a strong one. I don’t know how she does it, poor woman.” Steve pulled one leg up so he could support his arm. When he had heard of the young lady’s plight, he had taken no time in accepting the job of protecting her.

“If you ask me, she isn’t actin’ all that much like a lady in danger.” Sam set aside his rifle, clean and loaded his was ready for anything that might come their way.

“Have you seen many women in this situation before?” Bucky looked sideways towards Sam. It wasn’t that he disagreed with the man, he had his own suspicions about the story they had been fed by Mr. Lewis. Still, he knew better than to reveal them in front of Steve. The poor bastard had gone and gotten himself sweet on the girl.

“It just seems that any woman being chased by an outlaw like Loki would act a little more concerned.” Sam looked over towards the girl in question. She had gone from staring at her feet to absentmindedly throwing grass into the fire.

“Why would Mr. Lewis lie?” Steve didn’t want to think the worst of his employer, or of Miss. Lewis, but he had to admit that things didn’t really add up.

“Why indeed?”

* * *

 

Loki looked out across the plains towards the small camp. From where he stood he could just make out her figure. Darcy Lewis, the one woman on this God forsaken earth that didn’t think he was some kind of monster.

When he had first met her he had known he should turn around and leave her alone. She was worth more than some wanted man. Even now he fought with himself, knowing he should just turn and run the other way. With him gone she could live her life, find a worthy man and start a family. What could he give her but heartache?

Shaking himself from those thoughts, Loki settled down to wait. He had been watching for days, he knew soon he would have his chance. He would be damned if he allowed them to take her away from him.

* * *

 

The sound of footsteps brought Darcy out of her sleep. She didn’t bother to rise as she was sure that it was one of the men. For a moment she cursed herself for the thought when a pair of arms wrapped around her. When a hand pressed against her mouth she began to struggle, her own hand reaching out for the knife she always kept hidden beneath her pillow.

“Calm down, you wild cat. Or you will wake up your ‘protectors.’”

Darcy stopped moving as his voice washed over her. She relaxed into the touch, tears almost falling from her eyes. She took in a huge breath when he released her mouth.

“Loki!” Shivering, she took one of his hands and held onto it tightly. It had been too long since she had been in his arms.

“Didn’t think I would allow them to take you, did you?” Loki allowed himself a moment to press his nose into her hair before returning his eyes to the world around them. He had watched these men for days, he knew what they were capable of and he had no plans on dying.

“I thought you might have been scared off.” Darcy kept her voice low, remembering back to the last time they had been together. It had been the day her father had found out about their affair, the day he scent her off.

“Never.” Loki pulled her closer to him, holding on as tightly as he dared. “You, Darcy Ann Lewis, are my family. And no one on this green earth can take you away from me.”

Darcy felt a lump in her throat. He had told her many times before that he had loved her, but with her father…. “He’ll kill you.”

“He will have to find us first.” Letting go of all but her hand, Loki stood up and pulled her along. “Now, come on before your guard realize what is going on.”

“Wait!” Darcy pulled Loki to a stop. “That day… that day that Father found us, I told you I had something I needed to tell you. The thing is, Loki, I’m pregnant.”

Loki stopped breathing, his eyes traveling down to her still flat stomach. He reached out a hand and pressed it there. He swallowed thickly and shook his head.

“Then know this, I will move heaven and earth to keep both of you with me. No force in this world will ever separate us again.”

Darcy threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life. She knew that life would be hard, loving a wanted man. She would burn in hell willingly if only it meant she got to be with him.

Quietly the two slipped off into the night, no trace of them left.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my best story by far, but it has been awhile since I've written western au. But I figure after this, Darcy and Loki rode off and became legends, and years later many movies were made about their great love. Anyway....


	9. A Fine Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marshal Coulson knew that there was a fine line that should never be crossed in his line of work, but sometimes you can't help but cross it.

  The job of the U.S. Marshal was easy; abide by the law, catch those that are a danger to society and bring them before the law. Justice served. The problem was that they never told you how much grey there really was in the world. Nor that sometimes the outlaws won.

 

  This was the problem for U.S. Marshal Phil Coulson. He was currently leaning over the bar of the Broken Shield Saloon nursing a glass of whiskey. Not that he felt the need to savor the place’s particular brand of rotgut, but old habits were hard to break. He had never been one to down shot after shot, he had seen many good men killed that way. Even when he felt like swimming in his sorrows, he couldn’t help keeping his head. He laughed to himself. Not that he actually had his head. He had lost it when he had let her go.

 

  In his time he had brought in dozens of outlaws, but the one that had eluded him had been Two-Shot Lewis. Stories of Two-Shot had risen throughout the west. Word was he only needed two shots to down his opponent, one as a warning and one to kill. There was no doubt that the man was good, he left a trail of bodies all over the west. The strange thing was just who those bodies belonged to. Not once had Two-Shot’s victims been guiltless, every one had been a lowlife preying on the innocent. In his wake the poor suddenly had food and money. People were calling him the Robin Hood of the west. Phil didn’t care what he was doing, the law was the law and you just couldn’t take it into your own hands. How quickly one’s ideals could change.

 

  It had been three years ago when he caught his first glimpse of Two-Shot, nothing more than a flash of something dark in the night. It would be only a couple of months later that he would finally come face to face with the man… or woman as it turned out.

 

  The encounter had been pure accident. Phil had been bedded down beside his horse for the night when he had heard a noise coming from the formation of rocks just off the trail. He had gone to investigate only to find the very outlaw he had been hunting. He had just pulled his gun from the holster when the man turned around. For almost a minute Phil had just stood there staring. Staring at the large, expressive blue eyes. At the full, red lips. And at the thick round curves that could never belong to a man. The woman had smirked at him, flung her hat off to reveal a tumble of brown curls, and sauntered her way over to him. The conversation had been short, nothing more than acknowledgement of whom she was and that she knew who he was. She had licked her lips, whispered ‘catch me’ in his ears and then he knew no more. He woke up hours later with a single name on his lips; Darcy.

 

  He muttered her name now as he hung his head. That had not been the last time they had spoken. In those three years Phil and Darcy had crossed paths many times. Every time he crossed the line just a little more. It had become a game, one he found himself enjoying. That game became a flirtation, and soon a relationship. A strange relationship mind, but one nonetheless. It had all come to a head a month ago when she had happened upon his camp. That night every whispered promise came to fruition, and Phil had crossed that last line. He had been awake when she slipped from his bedroll, but he had feigned sleep. He had watched her from half lidded eyes as she dressed and slipped out of sight.

 

  He pushed his empty glass further up the bar, ignoring the old man behind it asking if he wanted more. Instead he pushed himself up, picked up his discarded hat, placed it on his head and started for the door. The tarnished star on his chest felt heavy, now that he had crossed that line. He knew he should turn it in, retire somewhere quiet and take up ranching or something. But the thought of losing the chase, of staying still bothered him more than he could say.

 

  He had just reached the door when a hand pressed down on his shoulder. He tensed, ready to draw his pistol if needed. Instead he felt a wisp of hot breath hit the curve of his ear.

 

  “Just where do you think you’re going?”

 

  Phil sighed and turned around. Darcy stood before him in a red velvet dress, the edges trimmed in black lace. She looked like sin wrapped in crimson, and he knew he was a goner. Silently he followed her upstairs to a room, knowing all the way that he had crossed that line too far now. There was no going back.

 

  Shutting the door, he unpinned the star at his breast and flung it across the room.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Staceywacey who wanted AgentTaser: Western: “Just where do you think you’re going?” Hope you like it Sugar, I kind of adore the idea of Marshal Coulson… in fact this might be a character I will have to come back to at some point. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


	10. When Cupid Has Hooves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy/Steve

  The sky was darkening as Darcy finished up with her daily chores at the ranch. Winter was just around the corner, which meant that the air already held that bone-chilling nip. All she could think about was locking up, dressing down, and slipping into a hot bath. The sound of trotting and an excited huff behind her promptly nixed that idea. She sighed and turned around.

 

  Bear, otherwise known as the most annoying horse in the world, trotted up to her. He reached down, placing his nose firmly into her hair, knocking her hat off. She had trained Bear herself. He was the finest Friesian their ranch had ever bred, and she had known that he would fetch a pretty penny. Which was why, even though she loved the stupid horse, she had sold him when the offer came.

 

  Of course Darcy never would have simply let him go to just anyone. So many of the people who came out her way were rich bitches looking to fulfill their childhood dream of owning a pony. To them the horses were nothing more than an accessory to stuff in their Barbie Dream Ranch. They didn’t understand that horses were a commitment, even more so than dogs. They weren’t pets, they were companions. Bear’s owner though understood this, being an honest to God cowboy from up in Wyoming.

 

  He had waltzed onto her ranch, took one look at Bear and knew he had found his horse. Too bad Bear didn’t see it that way. Rogers lived on the neighboring ranch and had moved Bear there after the purchase, not that he stayed there. Bear had been with Rogers for three months, but every night it seemed that Darcy had to trot that stupid beast right back to his new barn.

 

  With a shake of her head she took off towards Rogers’, safe in the knowledge that Bear would follow after her like a puppy.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve was just sitting down to his meal when he noticed movement from out of the window. He shook his head when he noticed the petite woman being followed by the overgrown puppy that was his horse. He couldn’t help the small laugh when Bear gave a “gentle” nudge to her back, tripping the woman slightly.

 

  When Steve had bought this old ranch, this was not what he had been expecting. He had grown up on a ranch in Wyoming. After his parents had died, leaving him with no relation to care for him, the Barnes, family friends, and taken him in. He had only been seven at the time. He had lived with them, learning how to be a cattle rancher, until he was eighteen and joined the army.

 

  He had signed up with his best friend and brother Bucky, only Steve was the only one to return. After everything, Steve didn’t feel as though he could continue to live with the Barnes. Too many memories, too much guilt. But he was a cowboy at heart, and it seemed you just couldn’t take that out of him. When he had found this old ranch in Colorado, he decided that maybe it was time for him to start out on his own.

 

  The first thing he did was purchase himself a horse. He had a truck back in Wyoming he planned on driving down someday, but what he really needed was a horse. He had spoken to the people in town, all of them directing him to the ranch beside his, Silver Lightening Cutting and Draft Horse Ranch. He had expected it to take a while, but the moment he set eyes on Bear he knew he could never own another horse. The problem was Bear didn’t seem to like him very much.

 

  Steve walked out onto the porch, leaning against the post as his neighbor stomped up in front of him. Miss Darcy Lewis was a couple of years younger than him, and more than a head shorter. Not that any of that mattered, the woman was a force to be reckoned with. And boy, if he didn’t want her. She was feisty, smart, and beautiful as all get out. He had almost asked her out the moment he purchased Bear. The lack of date hadn’t been his nerves, but the tall, dark British man that had slunk his way into her office.

 

  Loki or something, had been a professor of Shakespearian literature on loan to Colorado State from Cambridge. He also so happened to be Miss Darcy’s boyfriend. At least he had been. Last he heard the man had returned to England.

 

  “Got a present for ya.” Darcy pointed her thumb behind her. She had no need to look, she could feel the stupid animal’s breath on her neck. Instead she looked up at the man on the porch. If there ever was a man where you could see God’s work, it was him. He stood leaning against a post, legs encased in denim, and his flannel shirt untucked and unbuttoned almost halfway down his chest. Darcy didn’t normally like bearded men, but Rogers somehow made it work.

 

  “Gee, thanks.” Steve laughed and hopped down off the porch. He took up the reigns and gave a gentle tug. “Come on you dumb beast.”

 

  Darcy laughed when Bear stood his ground, tugging in return. Steve just shook his head before straightening out his hat.

 

  “Sorry again for him. I’ve even added extra locks on the barn, but he still figures his way out.” Steve pushed behind him when Bear nudged his shoulder.

 

  “Guess I should have mentioned he was an escape artist before you bought him. He used to do this all the time. Used to wake me up in the middle of the night whining beneath my window.” If the creature had been human, Darcy would have called him lovesick. Something that she was sure could be used to describe herself when it came to the man before her.

 

  “Makes one wonder why you parted with him.” Steve nudged back when Bear once again pressed against his shoulder.

 

  “I knew he would be in good hands.” Very nice hands, big hands… hands that were currently on her trying to keep himself up after Bear had pushed him too hard.

 

  “Shit, I’m sorry…” Steve sprang up and moved back, his face growing hot as he realized just where his hands had been.

 

  Darcy straightened her shirt, her own blush rising on her cheeks. “That’s alright.”

 

  For a moment the two of them just stood there, neither looking at each other or knowing what to say. Bear shook his head, stomped his foot, and once again nudged Steve in the shoulder. Though with less violence this time.

 

  After pushing the horse back, Steve cleared his throat. “Hey, there’s supposed to be a dance over at the community building this Saturday. I was wondering, well only if you wanted to, that is, would you like to accompany me?” He could have kicked himself, he sounded like some wet behind the ears little boy.

 

  “Um, yeah, I would love to.” Darcy beamed up at him. “I would like that at lot.”

 

  “Good, good.” Bear huffed behind him, bringing his attention away from Darcy. “Uh, I should probably get this idiot back to the barn.”

 

  “Probably. Night, Steve.” Darcy waved as she headed back home.

 

 Steve stood watching her until he could no longer make her out. Bear, behind him, huffed again. And had anyone been looking they would have sworn that the horse had rolled his eyes in fond exasperation.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt for: Western AU Prompt :) Darcy/Steve Darcy's family owns a horse breeding ranch. Steve moves into the neighboring ranch & decides to buy a Friesian horse from Darcy. Darcy & the horse cared deeply for each other so the horse kept running back to Darcy until Steve finally decides to ask Darcy out. This is so freaking late. I didn’t realize that this was still hanging out unfinished.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


	11. Riding That Iron Horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy/Bucky Historical Western AU, Train robbers

 

 

 

 

  Darcy reached over, grasping Bucky’s hand in her own. The feeling of his skin on hers helped to calm her racing heart, though it did nothing to banish the dread filling her up.

 

  The job was supposed to be a simple one, nothing out of the ordinary. They had pulled off train robberies a hundred times before; it was old hat to them now. Bucky had promised that this would be their last job, after this they would have enough money to buy that ranch down in Mexico.

 

  Darcy hadn’t always been an outlaw; she had been born to Mr. Thomas J.M. Lewis the Third of Boston and his young wife Millie. Her father had been a banker, her mother the heiress to a great mining fortune. They had met through their parents, a marriage made more on paper than anything. Still, the two of them had managed to produce Eliza Millicent Darcy Lewis.

 

  She had grown up in one of the largest houses in Boston, raised mainly by her nanny Miss Jane. She had the finest dresses, hats, and shoes that money could buy. Darcy had spent most of her youth after coming of age attending every dance, every tea, and every salon she had been invited to. Miss Darcy Lewis was the cream of the crop in Boston and every mother wanted her for their son. Though they had been out of luck as her father had already secured her a marriage to a man named Rumlow, the son of a potential business partner. This was where Darcy was sure her life as an outlaw began.

 

  Rumlow was a cad. Not just a cad, but truly one of the most horrible men ever born. Oh, around her parents he was the perfect gentleman, but he made sure to inform Darcy every chance he got that she was his property. One of the problems was that he believed it. It had been at the Hill’s annual Christmas dinner that everything came to a head.

 

  Darcy had gone for a stroll in the rose garden for a little air. Everything was covered in snow, but after the stifling heat of the house she welcomed the cold. She had been hoping that no one had seen her exit, her father would have words with her about being rude if they had. Darcy would be forever grateful that no one in the party had seen her. No one except Rumlow. Her intended had followed her out into the night air, and proceeded to once again explain to her, her place. She had had enough, and in the end Rumlow laid dead with a broken neck. It had been an accident, but she couldn’t say that she was sorry.

 

  She had quietly returned inside and spent the rest of the night worried that someone would realize what she had done. Rumlow had been found before the night was over, but thankfully no one had thought to blame her. Over the next few days Darcy allowed everyone to think that she was grieving for the man, it was easier than telling them how scared she was that she would be found out. Every time someone rang the door her heart sped up.

 

  That all had been five years ago, and she still wondered if anyone had ever figured it out. She had left not long after the funeral, stealing clothes from her father and stowing away on a train. That was where she had met Bucky, or at least what led her to meet him. She had spent a few weeks hitching rides on different trains, hiding out and stealing food where she could get it. One night the car she chose was far from empty.

 

  Bucky had been curled up in one corner, his head leaning against the car wall. His eyes had opened the moment she had entered, moving up and down to take her in. She had hoped that he would think she was some bum of a boy, and for a while she thought he did. It was a few days later when he had returned from finding food that he had thrown a dress at her. When she looked at him, eyes blinking, he had just grumbled something about seeing it and thinking it would look nice on her.

 

  She would admit that she worried he would take liberties after that, but he treated her like she was his sister. She figured the man felt the same way, at least at the time. From that point on the two traveled together. They became inseparable, neither of them could imagine moving on without the other. Darcy was the one to advance things between them. She had found that the man had stolen her heart.

 

  It had been one of the rare times that they had stayed in town. Bucky had come across some money, not that he told her how, and had rented a room at the local inn. She had watched with tears in her eyes as he left, to see to his needs he had told her. She knew what that meant, it wasn’t the first time he had visited one of those houses since they had met. But it was the first time since she had realized that she loved him. She had cried into her pillow, falling asleep with tears tracking down her cheeks.

 

  He hadn’t returned until in the early hours of the morning, smelling like soap and cheap perfume. He had slid in the bed beside her only to be met with her back. He had huffed at her, expecting her to curl up against his side like she normally did. It had taken him practically pleading until Darcy had turned over and smacked him across the face. She had expected him to hit back, to yell and pitch a fit. Instead he had dug his hands into her hair and kissed her. He had kissed her until she couldn’t even remember her name. That had been the last night that he visited a brothel.

 

  The life as a train robber had been Bucky’s idea. It had come to him one night while they were on the rails. He told her about how so many of the trains they rode carried money and gold. Banks and big named business men thought the rails were a safe way to transport their loot, and he lamented that they couldn’t get their hands on it.

 

  They had plans, big plans to buy a ranch in Mexico and settle down. They would marry and have a couple of brats. The problem was that plans like that needed money and they didn’t have a cent to their name. That was how Bucky came up with the idea. Those banks and rich men had more than they needed, it wouldn’t hurt them if they took some of it. Not everything, but just a small bit here and there until they could save up enough for that ranch.

 

  The robberies had started off small; they took just what they had planned. Only it soon became apparent that they would need to take more if they wanted that ranch before they were old and grey. They took more and more until the robberies became large enough plans had to be made. Soon enough they were boarding with masks on, blowing safes and stealing jewelry from ladies. They had made a name for themselves, and that meant that there were people after them.

 

  The last job had been a big one. There was supposed to be enough gold and money on that train that they could easily retire. It had been Darcy’s job to gather the money. When she had entered the car she had froze. She had recognized the name, emblazoned on the side of the safe in gold was the name Lewis. That moment had cost her as guards had rushed into the room with pistols raised. If she had known that the money had been her father’s she would never have allowed them to go on. Her father had always been worried about robberies, and for this reason he always paid for his own team of guards to travel with his money. 

 

  It hadn’t taken long before everyone knew that they were aboard. Her father’s men hadn’t thought twice about shooting, and a bullet caught her in the arm. Her scream must have alerted Bucky, as he came barreling into the car with his pistol raised. Guns on both sides sounded off, filling the car with heavy smoke. She had followed Bucky the best she could. They had ridden those rails for years, knew them like the back of their hands. The problem was her father’s men were good.

 

  The two of them stood side by side, hands clasped tightly. Before them stood six men, pistols pointed at their hearts. She could see it in their eyes, the need for blood. They were soldiers without a war, men picked for their ruthlessness. She wondered if her father would know, if someone would realize who she was and tell him that his men had killed his little girl. She wondered if he even cared. Perhaps they had mourned her long ago.

 

 The squeeze of Bucky’s hand brought her back to the situation at hand. They had finally come to the end of the line. They should have expected that it would end this way. Behind them the red landscape seemed to rush by, a blur of dirt and stone. She looked up at Bucky, hoped that he understood how much she loved him. He nodded, a faint smile on his lips. Keeping their eyes and hands locked, they allowed the desert to claim them.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr prompt for Western AU, Wintershock, with Bucky as an outlaw and Darcy a saloon girl or both kick ass train robbers.
> 
> So, turned out more Bonnie and Clyde meets Thelma and Louise than I had planned. But oh well, I’ve been wanting to write a train-hopping Darcy and this just allowed me to do so. Living in a train town there are still people who ride the rails, every year we have a few of the same ones that stop off here to get food and supplies. It is an interesting culture. We had this one guy who was sort of like a town hero sort of thing. He wrote poetry and rode the rails. When he died several years ago there was this whole thing in the papers about him and people mourned him.
> 
> You know, it wasn’t until I was finishing this that I realized I had poor Bucky fall off a train again….I guess he should stay away from trains at all costs.
> 
> I’ll also leave it up to the reader if you think they died or somehow survived.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


	12. The Lord Only Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky/Molly Hooper
> 
> After the war Bucky finds himself at a loss, not just with what to do with the life he still has, but also with the woman who seems to care for him.

 

  Bucky pulled his hand back and shook it, willing the pain to dissipate. It wasn’t the worst pain he had ever been in. He had been in the war and had caught several bullets to the arm. He had been fully awake when they had sawn through him, removing his arm almost up to the shoulder. At times he still felt the burn of the blade. Sometimes at night he would wake screaming, expecting the feeling of his fingers digging into the sheets.

 

  Ducking as a fist came towards his face, he could only laugh. The people in this town had no use for men like him. He had done his job in the war, but now that he was back and less than what he had been before… he was seen as a burden. What use was a man with one arm? Who would hire him for surely he couldn’t work a ranch. Thankfully Vision Valley was the home to Mr. Tony Stark.

 

  Tony Stark was a wealthy man. His father had come from out east when Tony was just a boy, he was one of the first to settle Vision Valley. The Starks owned over half the town, and Tony also wounded from the war was known for hiring all manner of men no matter what they were missing. Of course that didn’t mean that men like Bucky didn’t deal with his share of problems.

 

  Today was no different than any other day when he ventured into town. He had gone for a drink at the Broken Shield Saloon, spend a little time with one of the girls, and head off to purchase some supplies for the ranch. Only one of the local men had taken exception to Bucky talking to what he termed as “his girl.” Not that ol’ Darcy would have given Rumlow a second look, she only had eyes for Marshal Rogers.

 

  “What you laughin’ at? Stubs, huh, what you laughin’ at?” Rumlow swayed on his feet, his left eye already swelling and turning purple. Not that he let that bother him; he swayed forward and took another swing at Bucky.

 

  “Your ugly mug, Rum.” Bucky swerved out of the way, turning before the other man could come at him again. He let his fist fly again, this time the crunch of Rumlow’s nose was unmistakable.

 

  Rumlow screamed, blood and snot pouring down his face, slipping between his lips and turning his teeth an unsightly red. He growled and went headlong into Bucky, only to find himself with a fist in his gut and his head knocking against a table.

 

  Shaking out his hand, Bucky surveyed the scene before him. A couple of Rumlow’s friends lay draped across tables and chairs, a few others slipped outside. Most of the other patrons went on drinking their whiskey; this was just another normal Thursday afternoon for them. He jerked at the hand on his shoulder, but he stilled. Thankfully as Darcy slipped into view.

 

  “If you don’t stop tearing up my place every time you come in here, I’m going to have to ban you.” Darcy shook her head, a small smile on her face. “Come on, let’s get you to the Doc.”

 

  Bucky swallowed hard, but allowed her to guide him outside. She yelled over her shoulder for one of the other girls to get things cleaned up, and then the two of them were on their way. He knew she would not take him to old Pierce. The man had a practice down by the whorehouse. Most of the people in town went to him, mostly just because he was a man. That was about all he had going for him. Pierce was a quack if he ever saw one. His office was a mess, his tools rusted and covered in dried blood. Many died after being treated for something as simple as a bad tooth by him. No, Darcy would never take him there.

 

  They passed by Pierce’s place, going further out until they arrived at a small cabin on the outskirts of town. The cabin was owned by the Holmes brothers, two men from England who now worked for the government. Not that anyone knew what they did, only that those who crossed them always ended up dead. Neither of the men lived in the cabin, they had lent it out to the Doc.

 

  Miss Molly Hooper had arrived in America alongside the Holmes brothers. For years it was believed that she was married to one of them, or possibly both. So it had been a shock when both men had come back from a visit out east with wives on their arms. No matter what her relationship to the brothers, Miss Hooper had been set up in the little cabin.

 

  Not long after both men had moved away, she had opened the place up as a medical practice. Most in the town refused to go to her. She was a woman, and one with a history if the church women were to be believed. Soon a few women went to see her, mainly the ones that Pierce, in all his self-righteousness, refused to treat. Namely the saloon girls and soiled doves from the Red Room. This was where Darcy was taking him now, and the one place that Bucky wished not to be.   

 

  "Is there anyway that I could convince you to just let me go on my own way? There is no need to bother the Doc, I'm just a little bruised up." Bucky smiled down at the woman at his side. The smile was the same one he had often used many years ago to charm the ladies into saving him a dance. Now though, since the end of the war the smile looked less charming and a lot more awkward. As though someone had been standing behind him, pulling the skin at his cheeks back from his teeth.

 

  Darcy sighed and shook her head. She had been one of the lucky ladies to have been on the receiving end of that smile in its heyday. She had even allowed that smile to lead Bucky back into her room; not that anyone but the two of them knew that. To see the twisted way his mouth stretched across his face now tore at her heart. Looking away from him she didn't speak, only pushed open the door to the little cabin and stepped inside.

 

  "I'll be with you in a moment." A soft voice trailed from one of the back rooms following the ringing of the hanging bell at the door. The patter of hard soled shoes tapped a rhythm out on the hardwood floor as a slender figure entered the main room.

 

  Molly took one look at her guests and groaned. There was no need to ask what Darcy was doing there with Barnes at her side, it was a common enough scene. She directed them into a small room off to the side, and stood waiting at the door until Barnes lifted himself up onto the exam table.

 

  Darcy gave a firm pat to the man's thigh before stepping back. It was upsetting enough seeing that smile, it practically hurt seeing him once again in a doctor's office. At least this time he was awake. She slipped out the door, giving a short nod to the Doc on the way. She knew that he would be in good hands with the woman, and she needed to get back to her saloon before Rumlow woke. Rum was a mean old bastard, and a dumb one at that. He never could understand the difference between one of her girls and a whore. Even after finding himself on the wrong side of a gun more than once.

 

  Molly waited until she heard the bell above the front door ring before she moved to stand before Barnes. She lifted a single hand, her fingers brushing over the lines of his face. She knew these were lines that had been brought on by war and death, not by age. She wondered many times what he had looked like before he had become a soldier, smoothed faced and with bright eyes. She hadn't known him then, only of him.

 

  "One of these days you're going to get yourself killed." Molly smiled sadly at him.

 

  "Maybe that's a good thing." Bucky always felt wrongfooted around Doc Hooper, and he always seemed to say the wrong thing. He realized he had done it once again when the woman hauled her hand back. He closed his eyes expecting to feel the sting of a slap, only instead he heard a small, shaky sigh. He opened his eyes to find the woman before him with her head bowed.

 

  "For all my learning, all the years I spent studying medicine with the hope to heal, I have never felt more helpless than I do when I'm around you." Molly took a step back towards the cabinet, her face never meeting Bucky’s. She gathered a handful of cloth and a small bottle of a faint yellow liquid before returning to the man on the table.

 

  Bucky remained silent as the small woman dampened the cloth and carefully dabbed it over the cuts along his face. He could see tears in her eyes, and it pained him to know he had been the one to put them there.

 

  It hadn’t been the first time that particular sentiment had left his lips. For the first year after the war he had thought of nothing else. He fully believed that he should have died in the war. There had been so many young boys, so many better men out there that had lost their lives while he lived. It didn’t seem fair to him. He had the unfortunate luck to mention this to Miss Darcy, the woman had just flung her arm back and walloped him good for even thinking such a thing. Still, it didn’t stop him from feeling that it was the truth. Now he stood before another woman, this one taking his words not with violence, but with quiet sadness. It hurt more than losing his arm had.

 

  “Look now, you shouldn’t take what I say to heart. I’m just an old fool.” Bucky reached out, a single finger going under to lift Doc Hooper’s chin.

 

  “If I believed that I would be the fool.” Molly sniffed a little and took a single step forward. “You are not the first soldier I have worked on, nor are you the first man I have known to think such thoughts…..” She fought down a lump in her throat before continuing. “Do you not understand how much you mean to your friends? How much they would miss you? How much it would hurt…”

 

  “What friends I got wouldn’t care a lick what happens to me.” Bucky allowed his hand to go slack, his arm falling down into his lap. He swallowed hard when the woman stepped up fully to him, and disregarding all decorum, leaned her head against his chest. Not knowing how to react, his simply placed his hands on each of her shoulders.

 

  “I would…. I do…” Molly knew that what she had just done would have been seen as scandalous by most of polite society. The thing was, she didn’t care. She had longed to find herself in this man’s arms for a long time now, to know what it was like to be surrounded by his scent.

 

  She sighed when Bucky slid his arms slowly over her shoulders and into her tightly pinned hair. He lifted her face up, his fingers spanning the entirety of the base of her neck, his thumbs resting lightly on the edge of her jaw.

 

  “The good Lord only knows why.” Bucky leaned down with every intention of kissing the woman. At the last moment, he tilted her face down just far enough that he could easily press his lips against her forehead. Doc Hooper was too good for the likes of that, she deserved a proper courtin’. Even if he didn’t deserve such a thing.

 

  “Maybe one day he will tell you. Until then, promise me you will be careful with your life.”

 

  Bucky gently took a hold of her ear lobe, a small, sad smile gracing his whiskered face. He gave a careful tug.

 

  “I promise.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this took a long time. So sorry about that. Starting a new job and moving (again) makes it hard to be able to write. I just started being able to actually write again a couple of days ago.
> 
> This is for jadziabear who wanted anything Molly/Bucky western. I hope this is alright, it is a bit earlier in the period of the old west than I normally I write, but I thought I would give it a try.
> 
> Well, except for one Anon, I have finished with my prompts. (That one will take a while as it is a bit more detailed) Now I plan on working on trying to get TLoF and Greenwaves done, mostly as I have so many ideas just floating around in my head for both Sherlolly, and Darcyland. Some even collide like this fic. I might open prompts again in a few months, perhaps more towards the holidays. 
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: Hope ya liked this, LOVED this prompt. I kind of picture them dancing to “Misty Moonlight Waltz” the one by Mark O’Connor is on Spotify if anyone wants to listen to it.
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


End file.
